


Sex Scene, Victorian Style

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bush, Kennedy, and a meeting on the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Scene, Victorian Style

Rain lashed his face and soaked his coat and ran off his hat in ribbons. It was, Bush decided, a fairly miserable day. His foot landed in a puddle that soaked through his stocking up to the middle of his calf, and he revised his opinion. It was a fully miserable day; nothing fair about it.  
  
“Mr. Bush!”   
  
The yell came from somewhere behind his left shoulder, and Bush turned, squinting against the rain. There was only one other greatcoat in the crowd, wrapped around a set of freckles he would recognize until his very last days, he was sure. He waited for the other man to trot over before inclining his head and returning the yelled greeting with a much quieter, “Mr. Kennedy. You appear much more cheerful than the weather would allow.”  
  
“This?” Kennedy waved a hand, encompassing the whole of the sky with a flick of his fingers. “This is nothing on land. Think of the misery to which we would have to adjust if we were aboard the Indy or some lesser vessel.”  
  
He had, Bush admitted with a small nod, an excellent point. “But ship or no ship, you cannot possibly enjoy being in the midst of all this.” The flash of humor in Kennedy’s eyes made Bush’s stomach twist in an agonizingly wonderful way.  
  
“Then we should get out of it. My lodgings are just around the next corner, and I should have a nice warm fire blazing at the moment. You could dry your hat and coat and feet and hair and-““I will accept the invitation, Mr. Kennedy, if you would kindly stop listing all the places on my person which are already aware of their dampness.”  
  
“Done.” Kennedy smiled brightly and gestured to the street. “Shall we? I assure you it’s no palace, but it’s certainly warmer and dryer than where we stand now.”  
  
Bush agreed with another nod and fell into step beside Kennedy. The boarding house turned out to be exactly around the corner, settled with its door facing the cross street, and Kennedy led the way in with a flick of his key and a pause in the foyer to remove his hat and murmur a hello to the landlady, who gave Bush barely a glance and Kennedy the kind of smile a woman usually reserved for beloved children and pets.  
  
“She seems quite taken with you,” Bush said as they mounted the stairs, wet over things leaving puddles in their wake.  
  
“She’s a fine landlady,” Kennedy’s smile was kind, and Bush’s stomach curled again. “She had a son who died of consumption when he was a boy. I bear some small resemblance, she said.”  
  
The landlady was dark-haired and dark-eyed, more likely related to Hornblower than pale and freckled Kennedy. “It must be your personality.”  
  
“Isn’t it always?” Kennedy had the devil in his eyes as he unlatched the door to his room and gestured in Bush. “Do make yourself at home, Mr. Bush.”  
  
The room was set up with a bed in one corner, a writing desk in the corner opposite, a bureau against the wall nearest the bed, and a small table and two chairs directly in front of the hearth. The fire was, as Kennedy had promised, healthy and warm, and Bush immediately shed his coat and hung it on the coat rack behind the door. He hung his hat on a second hook and bent down to remove his shoes and stockings. He curled his toes against the rug by the hearth and leaned forward when Archie started in on his waistcoat. “I thought I had come to simply warm myself by the fire of a friend, Mr. Kennedy.”  
  
Archie snorted and slipped the waistcoat off of William’s shoulders. “Do not treat your intellect so rudely, William. I’ve no doubt you were well aware of my intentions. I would not have forced you into this terrible rain without a wholly enjoyable reason.”  
  
“You could have just as easily come to call at my lodgings.”  
  
“But it’s a much nicer story to meet on the street, two friends finding the chance to enjoy one another’s company, don’t you think?”  
  
William shook his head at the impish glint in Archie’s eyes. “Your need for a fine story is occasionally cumbersome, Archie.” Then he was kissed, warm and easy, as if he and Archie had all the time in the world to spend in Archie’s room with his warm fire and clever hands.  
  
“You know I always endeavor to apologize for my sometimes tiring nature, William.”  
  
“I’ll wait until afterwards to decide if I accept.”  
  
“It’s a very good apology,” Archie insisted as he turned William toward the bed and walked him over, kissing him all the way. “I’ve been practicing.”  
  
William felt the bed against his legs and sank down, pulling Archie by the front of his shirt. “I am certain it will be fully acceptable.”  
  
The rain kept a steady beat against the windows while Archie apologized in a manner most pleasing to William.


End file.
